A Wizard's Struggle
by AccioJosh
Summary: Non-Character based! A story about a young wizard who must choose between being a wizard and following a family tradition.


**A Wizard's Struggle  
**_By Josh McCusker_

_A/N: This is a separation from my normal fanfics. It actually doesn't mainly involve a known character in canon, and though I had started off toying with that originally, this one is nothing like my previous attempts as it will not directly involve the characters or main story. If that's not your thing, feel free to abandon ship at any time. The story is inspired by my own Celtic heritage, and while reading some other fics and listening to Loreena McKennit's beautiful music. I hope those of you who do read enjoy. And his name is pronounced 'kwee-VEEN' for those of you non-Celts out there._

The inconspicuous brick home sat amongst many others like itself, a simple home amongst other simple homes. Positioned as the center home in a cul-de-sac in a small mid-western town in Ohio, one could never tell from the outside what strange and fantastic things the beautifully maintained front lawn and well-washed car hid. One would never guess that within its walls, this home contained wizards and witches, openly practicing their craft through charmed windows that kept muggles from seeing what they wouldn't understand.

Sitting at his desk, bathed in the warm light of a Celtic lighting charm, writing furiously on a parchment already filled with tight, small letters forming long, drawn out paragraphs that seemed too intense to come from such a small hand, eleven year old Caoimhin Liam MacCoghwell was looking about as studious as one could expect from a graduate student working hard on a thesis. Though lost in his thought, Caoimhin looked as excited about his writing as the little boy that he was.

Wafting sensually through the air, emanating from a small muggle stereo system on his bookshelf, the intriguing sounds of Loreena McKennit played gently. Smiling up at him from the desk, enclosed in a frame of pure gold and marked with Celtic symbols, his grandparents were alternating between crooning over his then baby form, obviously proud of him, and smiling at the camera. Caoimhin hardly noticed.

In the background, as one of the tracks ended and a new one was beginning, the sounds of shouting could be heard from below and the boy frowned, pausing in his writing and looking at his door with a pained expression. Very bright for his age, this young man was rather distraught by the interruption in the normally happy household, and even his writing was paying for it. Seeming to give up, he stood and ran his hand through his golden-brown locks of thick, curly hair and moved towards the door. With stealth learned by one who was used to sneaking around, he slowly stalked his way onto the landing and listened in.

"... Told you _not_ to register him, Laura! I don't want my boy going to some _British_ school for wizardry!" His father's thick Celtic accent had faded the longer they'd resided in the states, but Caoimhin picked up on it none the less, noting it as he always did as it seemed to come out stronger still when the middle-aged man was enraged.

"Keelan, it's not fair of you to deny my ancestry! I am a Brit and I will _not_ allow you to deny him the opportunity to attend the best school in the world! I went there, and I turned out fine!" The argument had been going on for nearly two weeks since the boy's acceptance letter had arrived. It seemed to dissipate and return like the wind on a hot day, and he was starting to wonder if they would ever ask him whether or not he wanted to go. He listened again as his mother tried in vain to sway his father, but the longer she spoke, the more red his face became.

"I want him to attend a Celtic school. He will be a Druid, and that is _final_." His father's voice was low and steady, and his emphasis on 'final' seemed so much so that Caoimhin was certain they would not ask him. And for whatever reason, he was starting to get annoyed by this. Though he loved his father with all his little heart, he couldn't understand why it would be such a problem. His gram had already been on him about learning Celtic ways, and he was quite attuned to her teachings already. She said he possessed a knowledge of it that surpassed even her own, and so he thought a change of studies might help round him out. Always ahead of his peers in intellect, he was tired of being different and wished, for once, to attend a school where he knew as much as the next lad. His father, however, continued with his very determined tone, cutting off his mother's forthcoming argument. "Laura, please, do not argue. I have made up my mind."

It was when he was standing in front of them that Caoimhin realized he'd moved, and it was when he'd already said his piece that he realized he'd spoken. It was almost as much a shock to him as it was to his parents, who both gaped at him with odd looks on their faces.

"I will attend Hogwarts," he announced resolutely. "Gramma has already said that I've learned as much of the Druidic ways as I can, and more than a school could teach me. There is no point to my going to a Druidic school." And the shock wore off as his father's face turned from surprised to angry, it being so red that it looked like steam would begin to spout from his ears at any moment. Briefly Caoimhin was worried his father would beat him, but as his father had never so much as risen his voice to the boy, he doubted very much that it would happen now. He set his face in stone, the same expression he had learnt from the very same man he now turned it to and felt his mother's hand upon his shoulder, standing by his side.

"And so you have it," she said triumphantly. "Even Geileis agrees that he's ready to move on."

The thought of his father exploding briefly crossed his young mind, but he watched in amazement as the color began to seep out of his father like rain water from a catch and he couldn't refrain a smile. When his father spoke again, it was softer and less vicious, but still stern. "It won't detract from his learnings." It was a statement, not a question. And, that decided, his father stood and gave him a disappointed look before disappearing into his study. Caoimhin was left with his mom, who hugged him tightly and smiled.

"It's late," she whispered and patted his pajama-clad bottom. "Off to bed, and for _real_ this time. No more writing."

~*~

"Kwee!!! Get over here!" Caoimhin's friend Jared was standing by their favorite tree and beckoning the boy over to him with exasperated gestures. The fort they had built in this tree, which lay in the middle of a vast farm, was almost extravagant by normal standards, and when they climbed up into its folds, they were suddenly hidden from muggles and other children who weren't told it was there. Since he'd started studying wizarding spells, Caoimhin had found that a lot of the Celtic spells were mirrored there, though some of the processes were vastly different and almost harder. He'd also learned that being under-aged, he wasn't allowed to use their magic without being at school, so he was glad his tree house was protected by Druidic spells and symbols as he liked its privacy.

"Did you get your letter?" Jared was very excited and looked ready to burst. He was brandishing his wand and waving it frantically in imitation of spells he had yet to learn. The dark-haired youngster had just returned from a trip with his family to the East Coast, where Caoimhin assumed his letter must have found him. Watching him wave it, Caoimhin envied how Jared had already seemed to make the wand an extension of his arm. Though he wondered why wizards would need such a device instead of just using their innate magic directly, he still hoped he would be as good with a wand as Jared.

"I did," he answered calmly after his thoughts worked through. Jared was definitely not on his level of maturity, but they were able to get on because Jared was undeniably the most mature eleven year old Caoimhin had ever met. Even if he couldn't really say his name properly, and insisted on calling him 'Kwee,' which had nearly prevented their friendship, they were still best friends.

"I can't wait! The school is going to be amazing! I've heard they have three Quidditch pitches and even have a football field and soccer fields, and tennis and--"

"I'll be going to Hogwarts," he interrupted.

"WHAT?" Jared looked as if his world had just crashed and his wand mimicked this by falling to the floor with a clatter.

"My mom wants me to go to her school, so she said I should go to Hogwarts as she did." Jared was looking at him like this couldn't possibly explain why they wouldn't be going to school together and Caoimhin was starting to feel heat rise into his face. "I'm sorry," he added feebly.

"Sorry," Jared echoed, slumping to the floor and staring at one of the boards, as if hoping to see something in it that would solve his problem. "I--I don't..."

And Caoimhin knew what Jared must have been feeling, but he knew they could keep in touch by owl and muggle post and that was enough for him. He was excited about going to Hogwarts more than Tecumseh Academy, even though it was rumored to be one of the best Wizarding schools in the United States. He also knew that, unlike their years in muggle school, Jared would be able to make other friends and wouldn't be ostracized for being different. Muggles didn't know they were wizards, or in Caoimhin's case, a wizard and druid combination, but they knew something was odd about the pair of them and they made sure to remind them of it every day.

"You'll be fine," he said finally. "It won't be like elementary school, Jared. Everyone else will be just like you." He smiled like a father to a child and continued. "You won't need me anymore. I bore you most of the time, with my books and reading ahead. Being able to do Geometry in second grade may have seemed amusing to you once, but I know you think I'm conceited sometimes."

Jared looked pained. Caoimhin had never spoken so bluntly about their friendship before, but even Jared couldn't pretend he wasn't being honest. Sometimes the young genius was more than he could handle. When Jared wanted to play baseball, Kwee wanted to read some book about prophesis or runes, or some other intelligent thing. He never seemed to want to have enough _ fun_.

"Kwee, we'll have to write _every_day." Caoimhin nodded, smiling. "You're still going to be my **best** friend," Jared added with only a hint of uncertainty.

"And you mine." And so it was, for a long time until fate and distance took their toll.

~*~

When the day came to take his flight to London, Caoimhin had yet to have spoken to his father since the decision. He knew the man was quite upset at what he looked on as his only son's denunciation of his heritage, but Caoimhin couldn't help that his father had been in a terrible accident after his conception and lost the ability to have the typically large, Irish family he'd always wanted. Being eleven and knowing this, the boy sometimes wondered how other children could go through life being so oblivious to the nuances of the adult world. So much was missed, so much lost. No wonder the adults were all nuts.

As he moved towards the inspection gate, his father clasped his shoulder and turned him around. Yanking the boy into a gruff hug, which was rare for his father, the young wizarding genius smiled when his father pulled away with tears in his eyes. He looked into those eyes, seeing a mixture of pride and anxiety and nervousness, Caoimhin simply said, "I love you, papa, and I will always keep my Celtic side bright in my future." His father laughed and the boy tried not to notice his father's tears as they came even more steadily.

In years to come, when he looked back on that day, he was glad he'd said the words he had as his father died shortly afterwards. Never having gone to a doctor, refusing any muggle treatment and also refusing normal wizarding care, the man had never known that his body was being slowly eaten by a disease that a little muggle treatment could abate. Caoimhin cried, like a normal boy, and always kept his Celtic heritage close to heart even as he excelled in Arithmancy and Defense Against the Dark Arts and learned the teachings that would eventually lead him to get N.E.W.T.S. in almost every subject. Unsurprisingly, he was given the position of Auror without so much as a flinch or a second interview, and his training exceeded that of generations before him.

When he fought against Voldemort alongside his mentor, Tonks, he found himself feeling something for someone that, for a change, didn't disappoint him in reason and humor. She was just what he needed, and when they finally settled together, after the downfall of the Dark Reign, they had nine children whom he made sure were all taught the Druidic ways, as those in his family had done for generations previous.

Before he passed away, Caoimhin's son Erick, who had recently become the newest Auror for the Ministry, had his first child and named him after his grandfather. When news reached Caoimhin's ears, he let go of his life, satisfied that it had been lived to his father's expectations. He passed on with a smile.


End file.
